I type this laptop on knees, sitting on the bed with my unpacked suitcase underneath the bed-edge I am perched on. Speaking of perches, the sunlight is slightly streaming through the frosted ice shutter-style windows in my bedroom whose name I can’t for the life of me remember right now and the birds are just singing away, somehow adding to my tranquil Caribbean vibes. And At 1’o’clock, I can see my laundry basket looking slighty full. I hope there’s nothing in it I was planning to wear. I am in pyjamas and the boat leaves in 4 hours. I should be packing as I type this.
But I continue to type because I’ve been a bit overwhelmed by my own adventures recently and if you’re a regular reader, I thought I should update you. Truth be told, I didn’t know I had any regular readers but one of my friends was like, hey you haven’t blogged for a while, which was basically the nicest thing anybody had said to me all day. Like, somebody noticed??? Awwww…
Okay, since I am supposed to be packing, and there are no buses as today’s ferie, and I am gonna have to beg for a ride to the port if I don’t move so I can pick up one of the buses leaving hourly from round the corner…unless I want to hitchhike which is usually an incredibly effective form of transport but may not be if it’s a Bank Holiday (sorry, that’s what ferie means…I’m too rushed to recall where the accents are on this but it’s feri-e in case you were wondering…) and everyone’s chiling in their houses. This is my life.
Shooting from one adventure the next, trying to take it all in, working out the logistics as I go along, and hoping I don’t miss the boat. The last couple of months have frankly been a bit crazy. But in a wonderfully frantic yet ultimately enriching sort of way. After my bro came to visit early Jan, it was simply non-stop.
I headed to Trinidad to carnival which I thought was the best week of my life, but was followed two weeks later with a visit from a fabulous friend which contained all sorts of anecdotes and travel tales which should be committed to paper/keyboard for my own entertainment if no one else’s. A mere five days later I left for a roadtrip with my best friend which can only be described as the adventure of a lifetime. It was a lot of fun, even if we didn’t get a convertible, or wear scarves on our heads to proper Thelma and Louise it up. On the upside, we didn’t have any of the unpleasantness or the suicide ride off the Grand Canyon either so I’m not harbouring too many regrets about the lack of similarities.
Since I’ve been back home, you know, to the intriguing French Caribbean island I call home, things have been different. Such a large amount of time spent with proper ‘knew me way back when’ loved ones was bound to have an effect but I honestly didn’t think it would be so profound. We didn’t have any particularly revelatory conversations, although we did contemplate what it meant that Justin Timberlake’s first solo album was THE soundtrack to the uni years, and now here we are 10 years later, on a road trip, and Justin’s ‘Suit and Tie’ is basically the soundtrack thanks to the radioplay it’s getting at this exact junture in time. Like I said, nothing too deep.
Actually, it may have been reconnecting with a couple of old friends at the end of the road trip which have been responsible for my renewed sense of purpose, and rediscovering the little delights that life has to offer. Life is a funny old thing and I think a conversation at a Coyote Ugly type bar inspired me to get back on the horse called life, and ride the hell out of it lest it gallop off without me as life can be prone to do if you’re not careful.
At this moment in time, I have been on the same island for a whole month for the first time in about 5. And here, too, my adventures have abounded. From last night’s Ladja class, a local martial art, to the bele party on Friday, to the trip to Skylounge on Sat night which followed the open air Salsa by the malecon in Fort-de-France, there’s been loads of happening in the past week alone. That doesn’t even include the tales of beachside dinner, the Dutch sailors and cocktails at sunset on their yacht on a lazy Sunday, the music festival at Empress Josephine’s childhood home where I discovered Oxmo Puccino, the Indian-Martinican cultural fest where I also got to see local legend Joby Bernabe perform.
So no, I haven’t given up blogging. I’ve just not been able to stop long enough to write down my adventures. I will do shortly. As in next week, once I’m back from the St Lucia Jazz Festival, and have gotten a handle on how to organise a birthday Mishui. If there are any regular readers who can offer any Martinique-relevant advice on the latter, it’d be greatly appreciated!!
For now, gotta make the boat.